


A Grapefruit By Any Other Name

by Geenee27



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-06 04:17:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17932670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geenee27/pseuds/Geenee27
Summary: This is all @allison_wonderland 's fault. For coming up with the brilliant idea of MFMM Smutuary, to help bring us a little sunshine in the dreary waning months of winter.I also blame a certain cast photo because that man makes a vest look nnngghhh.





	A Grapefruit By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Allison_Wonderland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allison_Wonderland/gifts).



The Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher, glamorous socialite, fighter for justice, and lady detective, peered out from under her dark fringe and large sunhat and surreptitiously lowered round sunglasses down her nose just a titch to regard her new gardener. He was currently on his knees and hands in front of the rose bed, turning the soil with a small trowel.

 

It was a very warm day and as a concession to the heat, he had foregone propriety and stripped off his work-shirt, and was labouring in a vest only. She eyed his sinewy, muscled arms as he continued to overturn the earth. A thin film of moisture made his golden skin glisten, emphasising the natural undulations of muscle and tissue. As a concession to the manual labour as well, her worker was dressed in a pair of old moleskin trousers, which fortunately for the observer, hugged his lovely derriere when he bent over...

 

Really, huffed Phryne, it should be illegal to look that distracting while she was trying to work. She sat back in her lounge chair, so as to give the appearance of nonchalance, and tried to return to the case file on her lap. It would not do to be caught out staring, the man would be insufferable for the rest of the day.

 

As if reading her thoughts, the gardener pushed up off his knees and stood to his full height, brushing the soil from each of his hands and slowly peeling the gloves off them. He dropped the gloves into a nearby wheelbarrow and put his hands on his hips facing her, a look of contemplation knitting his brow. There some grime stuck to the vest in the middle of his chest, where the sweat had tricked from his neck to his...

 

Phryne squirmed and pretended to ignore him. Without looking her way, he strode over to the water-hose hanging coiled on the side of a small shed near the back wall of the house, unrolled a fair length, and turned the tap to start the water flowing.

 

He washed his hands thoroughly, then cupped a small pool of water to pour over his head, to wet his hair and heat reddened face. He did this several times, so that the water eventually trickled down the front of his vest, which became very wet and clung to the hard, flat surfaces of his broad chest and abdomen.

 

Then for good measure, he bent and took great gulps of the water from the hose so that she could easily see the tendons of his neck work and his Adams apple bob up and down. Up and down.

 

Phryne involuntarily sucked in a breath and crossed her legs. Then cursed inwardly. He probably noticed that, he notices everything. The bastard.

 

Grabbing a cloth, he wiped his face and chest down and turning off the water, ambled over to the lounge chair next to Phryne's. He grabbed a few grapes from a bowl on a small patio table between their chairs, sprawled back on the opposite lounger, sighed, and closed his eyes.

 

“Members of staff do not usually take such a liberty of helping themselves to the food and furniture.”

 

“I help myself to a lot of things, Miss Fisher, consider it payment for a job well done.”

 

“And impertinent too, I may have to rethink my hiring you to fix my gardens.”

 

He chuckled and that sass furthered fueled her ire. Well, she could not let him goad her, inflame her, and get away with it.

 

Two could play at this game, so the raven haired beauty reached over to her bowl of fruit and plucked a red grapefruit from it. Methodically, she peeled the tart yellow skin, watching in her peripheral to see if the gardener was paying attention. It appeared not, his head was back against the lounge pillow, eyes still closed, still giving the impression that he was resting obliviously. She was not fooled but continued on. Once the skin was removed to reveal the pale, pink, plump fruit within, she applied a thumb and drew it into two halves.

 

“Try this grapefruit, it should be able to help quench your thirst.” She reached over to hand it to him. He did not stir so she tried again. “You know, grapefruit is a very sensual food...” She held it up and purposely stroked a finger seductively down the translucent membrane of the fruit's inner sections, and tried not to smirk as she imagined his startled reaction to the image... and the ensuing blushes.

 

“Is that a fact, Miss Fisher.” He had turned his head and deep blue eyes were peering at her from under a thicket of wet auburn curls. He reached over with his hand palm up so she could drop the grapefruit into the middle of it.

 

“Or so I've heard... of course.” She added.

 

“Of course.”

 

He brought the half grapefruit up into his line of vision and appeared to be studying it. Then he lowered it, held it in both palms and slowly rubbed his thumbs along the soft, ruby skin of the inside sections. After some time appreciating the texture, he brought it to his nose and breathed in it's scent, long and deep breaths and... and... did he just hum !?.

 

Phryne could not look away - unable to keep her mouth from slowly falling open, her breathing from coming a little faster, fascinated.

 

The man nuzzled his nose into the core of the centre, then using his tongue, first lathed the outside layers around the centre, and then dragged it up the whole seam, from the bottom to the top. After that he curved his tongue and gently circled. Phryne squirmed again.

 

Unrepentant, he continued his tongue up to the tip where the stem had been and sucked gently, oh so gently until the juices began to flow down the skin of the grapefruit sections and onto his chin. He drank greedily and after a while, when he had finished his excruciatingly slow exploration of the fruit's taste and feel, his tongue darted out once more and he proceeded to lick the juices from around his lips and chin.

 

“Delightful, Miss Fisher, I will never enjoy grapefruit in quite the same way ever again. “

 

Phryne was beside herself by this time, hateful man. She conceded this round with a huff and prepared to do battle for the next one.

 

“I believe I shall wander inside and have a rest. This heat can be very... tiring.” As she swung her legs over to place them on the grass, the case file slipped to the ground forgotten. She straightened and to all appearances strolled quite unhurriedly to the kitchen door and inside.

 

The gardener waited a moment, then did likewise, knowing it would be foolish to try and put off his inevitable punishment... but first though, a nice cool shower was in order.

 

Who knew that Jack Robinson was also aware of the sensual pleasures of a grapefruit.

 

Clever man.

 


End file.
